The True Tale of Camelot
by RigorMortis1
Summary: Merlin tells the true tale of King Arthur and his son Mordred.


The True Tale of Camelot

The Tale of King Arthur and his Camelot is widely known. His queen, Guenivere of Loedegrance; his bastard child, Mordred; his sister, Morgaine Le Fay; his faithful knight, Launcelott; it is all known. But few know the true tale. Few know of Mordred's wife and sons, and how her mere presence led to the eventual downfall of the Great King Arthur. Few know the true tale of Camelot. I hope by what I write, you can see the truth and know it as that: Truth.

Resmiranda De Bertru was born in a dreadful room of fire and smoke. Her mother died giving birth to her, and so the crying baby howled out to the empty room. Embers and ashes fell upon her, and nearby parts of the ceiling fell in a crash of flames. She should have died there, never to experience more than a few pained breaths of life, but it was not to be so. Two of the King's knights heard the child's cries, and saved her from certain death. Little did the babe know, but one day those very same men would save her yet again.

Her father, the Lord of the castle, had somehow survived. And so she grew up under his care, his only child left. He called her Mira for short, and she clung to him like thistles clung to a tunic. He was a rich man, and after the Saxons burnt his keep to the ground, he simply had it built back up again. She grew up accustomed to the wealth and splendor of her father's manor, and her father swore to her that he would never make her marry. And so Mira grew up happy, content, without a care in the world.

"Ho!" a pale haired man on a giant black war-horse called. His companion reigned in his horse and they both dismounted. She saw them out of the corner of her eye, but she dared not move, lest she break yet another rib. 

They came closer to her, and knelt at her side. "My Lady, are you able to move?" the pale haired man asked. 

"No," she croaked. 

He turned to his companion, "Get some rags and water to clean her wounds. If we have any honey and flour, bring that too. And find me some strong branches to use as braces." The other man scampered off and the pale haired man gently pushed her bloodied hair out of her face. "Do not fear, My Lady. We will keep you safe," he assured her. His voice was kid and comforting, and she truly did feel safe. 

The other man returned with the rags, water, honey, and flour. "I'll go get the branches," he promised. 

The pale haired man dipped the rags in water and applied them to her face, wiping the blood away. He then moved to her arms and ankles. "My Lady? If I'm going to clean all the wounds, I'll need to lift your dress a little higher." 

She shook her head hysterically, tears forming in her eyes. 

He hushed her, "All right, My Lady. I will let the ladies tend to that." He then mixed the honey and flour, forming a paste of sorts. "This is to fill the wounds for now," he told her. "It will stop the bleeding." She nodded and he applied it to the gaping wounds on her cheek, arm, and shoulder. 

When his companion returned, they carefully tied straight branches to her arms, and together they lifted her and placed her in a sling between their two horses. Together they walked their horses and talked as their fair damsel in distress drifted off to sleep to the gentle swaying of the makeshift sling. 

Resmiranda awoke in a down bed. The large, wooden door swung open and a plump woman carrying a tray entered the room. The woman sat the lavishly garnished tray of food on a table by Mira's head, and she laid a hand on the lying girl's head. "How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?" the woman asked. A million thoughts swirled inside Mira's head, and a picture began to form: 

Mira was riding by the side of the road, anxious to send news of the Saxon attack to the neighboring manor, when she heard the wild patter of hooves along the stone road. She looked behind her and saw a dust cloud forming as three riders made their way down the road. As the riders approached, their jeers and shouts rang in her ears and sounded over the loud clatter of hooves. She glanced behind herself, and glared at the ruffians and their shouts. She turned back, kept her eyes focused on the horizon, and ignored them. She didn't even notice when they climbed off their horses and approached behind her. Strong hands grabbed her around the waist, and swung her from the saddle and to the ground. She screamed in terror, and a fist met her jaw. Two of the men stood by and watched as her aggressor hiked up her skirts, and she fainted. 

Tears streamed down Mira's face, and the plump woman dabbed a cloth to her eyes. "It's all right, My Dear. You're safe now. Whatever villainous dogs did this to you will burn in hell for all eternity," the woman spat, and crossed herself. "How old are you, Lady?" she asked, kindly. 

"Thirteen," Mira replied. 

The woman smiled, "One of the noble girls is about your age and has been asking after you."

"Where am I?" Mira asked.

The woman laughed at Mira's confusion, "Why, Camelot of course." 

Mira almost sat up from the shock, "But that's miles from Caer Neffa!" 

Pity flashed in the woman's eyes, "You're not from there, are you?" When Mira nodded, the woman looked as if she was going to cry, and crossed herself, "The Saxons attacked weeks ago and burnt it to the ground. There was not a sole survivor." 

Mira turned away, tears sliding down her cheeks. 

Her father had been killed, the only family she had left in the world, and he had burnt to death along with all of her childhood friends. Having heard of the tale of her birth, she nearly laughed at the cruel irony of both of her father's kingdoms being burnt to the ground. But laughing didn't seem to fit the tragedy, and so she cried instead. "I have nowhere to go," she wept. "They're all dead!" And then a thought sprang to her mind. She had been on her way to Caer Destone to warn the neighboring lord of the attack. He had known her family her entire life. He would take her in! "What of Caer Destone?" she asked.

The woman hushed her and laid a kind hand on Mira's shoulder, "Destroyed too, My Lady." She watched Mira sympathetically as tears streamed down her face. "Calm down now, My Lady. You're a pretty young thing. You'll fit in well with life around here, and I bet you'll be married off in no time!"

Mira's eyes darkened and hatred swelled in her heart for all men, "I will never marry." 

The woman laughed and patted Mira's cheek, "You'll change your mind someday, Lady." 

About a week later, the woman, Holly, entered Mira's room, a young girl in check. The girl curtsied in front of Mira's bed and spoke, "I am Lady Morganna, daughter of the Lady Morgaine Le Fay." 

Mira sat up in bed, flinching as her broken rib jabbed into a muscle. "My Lady, I am honored by your presence." 

Morganna smiled and sat on the edge of Mira's bed, "Call me Morganna. What's your name?" 

"Resmiranda De Bertru, but you may call me Mira," she replied, smiling at the girl. 

"I heard about what happened to you," Morganna said, bluntly. "I think it's just dreadful! Holly told me you're from Caer Neffa as well. You poor thing!" Morganna chattered. "But don't worry! You'll love it here!" Morganna grinned. "Tell me if I'm talking too much," Morganna told her. 

Mira smiled and laughed, "Not at all." 

Morganna grinned, "I can tell we're going to be good friends." And so Morganna chattered on, filling Mira in on all the events of the castle: which maid was sleeping with which lord, and all about the rest of Morganna's family. Morganna was the niece of the great King Arthur, himself. Her mother was his sister, Morgaine, and her grandmother, the Queen Mother, Ygraine. Her father was King Lot of Orkney, and she had a sister, Morgan, and a brother, Mordred, who lived with her father in Orkney. Once they came of age, they would be sent to Camelot. Morgan, to find a husband, and Mordred, to enter the knighthood. Morganna was not particularly fond of her sister or her mother, but she truly came to life when she spoke of her brother, Mordred. He was at that time twelve years old, and Morganna's eyes lit up every time she said his name. 

Mira smiled at her friend, delighting in the tales Morganna told of him. He was the only man she allowed herself to think fondly of, save the king and her rescuers of course, but Mordred could hardly be considered a man, still but a child. She liked one story in particular, and Morganna told it often enough that she was able to memorize it. 

A baker's apprentice walked the streets, balancing a tray of fresh loaves on his head. Mordred saw the disaster before it happened. A knight galloped through the gates, heading straight towards the apprentice. Mordred watched the collision and grieved for the poor apprentice who would surely receive a beating for the ruined loaves. The poor apprentice cried out as the horse struck at his side. The tray flew through the air and there were shouts as the loaves met several heads of passersby. The knight cried out in anguish as his horse stumbled. He dismounted and struck the apprentice. "You bumbling fool! Don't you know enough to get out of the way of your betters?" Mordred stepped forward as the bruise began to form on the peasant's cheek. "You DARE to strike this man when it was your incompetence that caused this accident? You could see him, whereas he was unable to see you. You will pay this man for the ruined loaves, as well as pay for his two-week recovery from this injury." Mordred gestured at the bruise, and helped the man to his feet. The knight bowed to Mordred, scowled at the peasant, and handed him a purse filled with coin. The matter was resolved. Mordred was six at the time. 

Morganna came to see Mira every day until she was able to walk about the grounds. Morganna gave her friend many dresses and together they walked in the gardens every day. "Morganna?" Mira asked quietly. Her friend turned to her, eyes questioning. "What will happen to me once I am well?"

Morganna laughed, "Why, you'll stay here of course! My grandmother has agreed to finance your dowry, and pay for whatever you may need!" 

Tears began sliding down Resmiranda's cheeks and she sobbed against her friend's shoulder, "You have been so kind to me! I know I must be a burden to you and yours."

Morganna laughed and embraced her friend, "You are not, and you should not say such things! Having you around has lightened up the castle for me. It truly is a dreary place without a friend."

Mira would remember meeting the Queen Mother, Ygraine for the rest of her life. Morganna accompanied her into the grand hall, both decked in blue silk and ribbons. The two girls clutched hands and walked to the front of the room. A tall, straight graying woman sat stiffly, yet royally in a high chair. A fat, ugly, balding man sat to her right, and a stunning blonde woman sat to her left. A guard announced, "The Lady Morganna Le Fay, and her companion the Lady Resmiranda De Bertru." The man then turned towards her, "Your king, Arthur Pendragon, Queen Guenivere, and the Queen Mother, Ygraine." Morganna and Mira collapsed in a deep curtsy. Mira couldn't believe it. How could this unfortunate looking man be the King of all Briton? Guenivere on the other hand, was stunning. She was everything Mira had ever imagined a Queen to be. Her yellow hair fell in rivers down her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled with a kind of power and wisdom that made her look all the more beautiful.

Ygraine spoke, "Rise, Children." She smiled kindly at Morganna and embraced her granddaughter. Then she turned to Mira, "You are always welcome in this home, my child." She then embraced the second girl. Ygraine smiled kindly at the two girls, "Come, and let us go for a walk." They left the King and Queen behind them and ventured out into the garden. Ygraine and Morganna talked of life around the castle, and then Ygraine turned to Mira. "So tell me, Child, where are you from?" 

"Caer Neffa," she replied, tears springing to her eyes. 

Ygraine's eyes moistened as well, "You poor child. Your father served King Uther and me bravely, for he was an honest, and worthy man. I am glad to have known him. In Uther's time, there were thirty tribes or so, each with its own war leader, chief priest, and co-rulers who governed as a council of kings. Your father was one of the war leaders of his tribe, and when it came time to serve Uther in war, your father was the first man he could count on." Ygraine put her strong arms around her and Mira sobbed into her shoulder while Morganna stroked her hair. 

Later, once Mira had collected herself, Ygraine spoke again, "My granddaughter," at this she lay a loving hand on Morganna's shoulder, "has asked me to finance your dowry and pay for your living expenses, and I can think of nothing that would please me more than to repay your father for his service to the King's father, Uther, and myself. Your father played a crucial part in the first war with the Saxons. Without him, I can not say for sure if we still call ourselves Romans." She stopped here, seeing tears gliding gently down Mira's face. She cupped Mira's chin, and looked her in the eyes, "I know you grieve, and I know you must feel in debt to me for this, but please do not. You owe me nothing. It will be a pleasure to see you grow into a woman." At this Mira

A firm hand gently shook Mira awake in the middle of the night. It was Holly. Mira smiled at her friend, but Holly didn't smile back. "What's wrong?" Mira asked her, but she wouldn't answer. 

"Put on your best dress. The King orders it," Holly told her. Mira obeyed, confused. Holly brushed her hair and tied it back with seed pearls and ribbons and then Holly led her through the castle. They walked through corridors and stairwells until they finally reached a foreign area of the castle. All was quiet except for a faint sniffling. It sounded as if someone was crying. And then Morganna was led, crying, out a door by a guard. Mira tried to rush over to her friend, but Holly held her back. "You can see her tomorrow," she promised, and pushed Mira through the door that Morganna had come out of. 

At first her eyes had trouble adjusting to the dark, but when they began to refocus she saw him. He was standing naked in front of her and he grinned at her in the dark. She screamed and the King lashed an arm at the side of her skull. She quieted. He moved towards her, and she smelled whisky on his breath. He drunkenly pulled her towards him, pressing her body against his. He placed his mouth over hers and shoved his tongue down her throat. She bit it and he roared in anger. He ripped her dress from her, and slung her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. He threw her on his bed and she noticed the blood already on the sheets: Morganna's blood. He loomed over her, admiring her exposed flesh. He brought his mouth towards hers and she acted. She brought her head forward and smashed it against his head. He fell backward, but caught her as she tried to scramble from the bed. He grinned maliciously down at her, and then threw himself upon her. He took her again and again while she lay sobbing in the darkness. When he was done, he lay next to her, breathing heavily and wrapped his arms around her, trapping her against his body. 

When he was done, he called for a servant who led her from the room. The servant looked away, embarrassed, and handed her a blanket to wrap herself in. He led her through several secret passages that eventually came to her room. When she entered, Morganna was sitting on her bed, her eyes red from crying. Mira rushed to her and the two girls clutched each other as they sobbed in unison. 

He never called for either of them again, but his cruelty made an impact on their lives forever. "The Great King Arthur" had shown himself as a villainous dog. They remained locked inside Mira's room for weeks. Holly came, guilt shadowing her old eyes, and Morganna and Mira ran to her, sobbing. Their reunion was tearful and full of compassion and forgiveness, and the ordeal brought all three of them closer together. 

When Morganna and Mira began to come out into castle life once more, the Queen Mother called for them. The word that the two girls had come down with a chill had circled the castle, so their absence from court had not been remarked upon. Ygraine embraced them and asked after their health. They replied politely that they were fine, and they all sat down at a small table. "I have some interesting news," she told them. 

They turned to her, surprised, "What is it?"

"Sir Percival and Sir Kay have asked to meet you both," Ygraine told them.

Morganna began smiling at Mira, and began chattering away. Morganna had all kinds of stories to tell Mira about the two brave knights, and barely took a breath until she had done telling Mira of their great deeds. When the two knights entered the room, the girls curtsied and the knights bowed. 

A guard called out in a booming voice, "My Ladies, may I introduce Sir Percival and Sir Kay, two of the bravest knights of the Round Table." He then turned to the knights, "May I present the Lady Morganna Le Fay and the Lady Resmiranda De Bertru."

At this, the knights started. 

"Lady Resmiranda De Bertru?" Sir Kay asked, a look of shock upon his face. Sir Percival had the same look upon his own.

"Yes, but you may call me Mira, Good Sirs," she said as she fell into a curtsy.

"We..." Percival began, but was unable to finish his words, so Sir Kay interjected on his friend's behalf.

"We found you as a baby in the burning wreckage of Caer Neffa," he spoke as if in awe.

Mira looked at the two closely, and then nearly fainted. "Good Sirs," she whispered. "You were the two…"

They smiled at her, and Percival was finally able to speak, "Yes, we were the two who found you again."

She stared at the pale haired man, remembering his kindness and flushing in embarrassment at the circumstances from which they had saved her. Percival noticed her discomfort and led her to a chair across the room. As she sat, he whispered in her ear, "The only shame should be felt by the rutting boars that did that to you."

She looked away, blushing. Morganna joined them, her arm entwined in Sir Kay's. Mira turned to Sir Percival, "I wish to thank you for your kindness to me that day."

He smiled, "Think nothing of it, My Lady. Would you be interested in riding with me some day? I would like to show you my falcon."

She grinned with delight, "You're a falconer? So am I!" She blushed, reminding herself that women were not supposed to hunt. She expected him to scold her or at least frown, but he smiled in return.

"We shall have to find a worthy bird for such a fine lady." And so they talked of birds and hunting. 

The next day, he presented her with a fine falcon and a black leather falconer's glove, and she gave him an embroidered kerchief as a symbol of her appreciation.

Mira adapted well to castle life, growing close to Ygraine, Morganna, Holly, and Sir Percival. She rarely saw the King, and if he saw her, he made no note of it. She did, however, meet the Queen. 

Guenivere proved to be utterly full of surprises. The Queen was strong willed and powerful. She, Ygraine, and the King's champion, Launcelott, seemed to run the affairs of the kingdom, while the King turned to matters of the flesh. Mira found out from Guenivere that Morganna's and her experience with the King was not uncommon, and his mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of sex, that he was useless as King. Mira could not understand how the Queen put up with Arthur as a husband, but she soon found out. In the weeks she had been at the palace, Mira met many ladies who spent their time gossiping and sewing. One of the many things she heard about the news of the palace, was of Guenivere and Launcelott. Apparently the two were lovers. While Mira did not approve of adultery, their love seemed so pure and right that she did not object. In her mind Launcelott was the King of Camelot, and Guenivere his Queen. And with that picture, she could treasure Camelot in her mind once more. 

Over the next four years she grew close enough to Percival to love him and she might have someday, but then they came.

She was at the time seventeen years old. Morganna was nineteen, and soon to be married to Sir Kay. Rumors began several weeks before their arrival, "The daughter and son of King Urience would soon be coming to court." "Morgaine plans to marry her daughter, Morgan off to Launcelott!" Rumors were common in Camelot, so naturally no one believed any of them. But Morganna did confirm that her sister and brother were coming to court. Mira smiled at the thought of meeting her friend's little brother. She imagined him as a shy awkward boy who would one day grow to greatness. 

She was grooming her horse in its stable, when the stable doors swung open, letting a gust of snow and cold air in with a tall, dark man. He shut the door, and shook the snow out of his hair, leading his white horse to an empty stall. Mira brushed her horse, staring at the stranger. His dark hair set him apart from most men, and his eyes were darker than any eyes she had ever seen before. But his eyes were kind, gentle, and somehow scared, and so she was at ease with him. She turned back to her horse, and gently untangled her mane. Her horse whinnied, and the stranger turned to face her. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was in here," he apologized. "Are you the groom?" he asked.

She laughed heartily, "I'm afraid my disheveled appearance has you mistaken, my Lord. I am the Lady Resmiranda."

He stared at her in shock, "Oh my Lady, please forgive me. I've never seen a Lady in such clothes before…" he trailed off.

She laughed again, "Yes, I'm afraid I'm not proper enough for court life."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling, "Maybe not proper, but surely the loveliest woman I've ever met."

She blushed and looked away, "Thank you, my Lord. Your horse is lovely. He seems young. Is he well broken in?"

His smile widened, "You know horses! Splendid! I don't suppose you know anything of falconing?"

She blushed once more, and held up her falconer's glove.

He grinned, and shook his head, wryly, "I should have known."

She left her horse, and walked over to his stall, petting the horse's silky coat. He looked over at her horse, "Surely that's not your horse. That's a warhorse is it not?"

She grinned, "The finest one at that. She was a present from the Lady Ygraine."

He stared at her in surprise, "You know my grandmother?"

She looked at him, her eyes widening, "Your grandmother? Why… Sir Mordred!" she cried. 

He stared at her, "You know of me?"

She laughed, overjoyed, "Of course I know of you! Your sister, Morganna, and I are the best of friends. She talks about you all the time!"

It was his turn to laugh, "I hope she speaks well of me, Lady Resmiranda." 

"Call me Mira," she smiled, placing a hand on his arm. "Everyone else does."

"Mira!" Percival's voice rang out. "Morganna is looking for you..." he trailed off as he caught sight of Mira's hand on Mordred's arm. Pain flashed through his eyes, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were alone." 

Mira turned red and snatched her hand away. She turned to Mordred, "I thank you for your conversation, Sir Mordred." She left with Percival, and hurried to meet Morganna. 

When Mira entered Morganna's chambers, her friend ran to her, "He's here! Oh, he's here!" 

Mira laughed, "Yes, I know. I've met him." Morganna looked at her enviously, "You got to talk to him first? Where is he?" 

Mira laughed, "The last I saw him he was in the stables. I'm sure he and Morgan are with the Queen." 

The two rushed down corridors and entered the Great Hall. The Queen, King, Queen Mother, and King's champion stood before Mordred and a tall, beautiful girl. Twelve knights including Kay and Percival stood before Mordred and a tall, beautiful girl. The five knights including Kay and Percival stood to either side. Mira and Morganna watched in confusion as Mordred knelt before the King as the King brought his sword high into the air. Arthur tapped both of Mordred's shoulders, and silence hung in the hall. 

"Did he...?" Mira asked. 

"He did!" Morganna cried, "Is he drunk? Mordred's only sixteen! He's never even been a squire!" 

But Arthur had knighted him, despite his age and experience, or perhaps because of it. Perhaps he hoped to turn the rage of the court away from their drunken king and onto the unqualified knight. Whatever his motive had been, he failed. 

Mira found out from Morganna that the reason for Mordred and Morgan's arrival had been the knighting, and that there had been discussion of it with Morgaine for months now. Mordred proved himself to be more qualified than many at court. Ladies rarely watched the knights' practice every morning, but Mira made a point to go just to see him. His motions were fluid, connected. He looked effortless, as if the exercise was a dance. Watching him became the favorite part of her day. 

Morganna was married that summer to Sir Kay, and left Camelot with him to live in Orkney with her father. Mira's days were lonely and dreary, and she was forced to sit and embroider with the gossiping ladies. One of the worst was Morganna's sister, Morgan, who never stopped talking about Launcelott. 

"I'm going to marry him some day," she promised, dreamily. The other ladies simply rolled their eyes, and listened.

Mira found it nauseating. She supposed it was her devotion to Guenivere that made the idea so disturbing. Launcelott and Guenivere belonged together. That was that. 

One day, while out falconing, Mira came across a clearing. She dismounted her horse, and let her bird go. It took off into the sky, looking for prey. She lay in the grass and stared up at the clear sky. She spread her arms outward, savoring the beautiful day. And then a shadow came over her. She shot up in terror. It was Mordred. Mira smiled and relaxed. 

"I'm sorry to startle you, my Lady. Do you come here often?" he asked, smiling. 

She grinned and gestured for him to sit, "Never before, but I think I shall return. It's so peaceful here." 

He nodded, and they both lay back and stared up at the sky, "I saw you release your bird. He was beautiful." 

"He is, isn't he? He was a gift from Sir Percival," When she said his name, pain shot through her. She should have been lying here with him, not this handsome stranger. But try as she might, she could not imagine the dignified knight ever lying in a field of grass. 

"Oh," Mordred said, a strange look crossing his face. He rolled over and began picking at the grass, "Are you betrothed?" 

Mira grinned at his jealousy, "No, my Lord. We are not. Nor shall we ever be, I imagine." 

He tried to hide his smile, but he failed. 

She rolled over as well, and began plucking at the grass as well. They both pulled up weeds until there was a small patch of dirt. They made a pile of the grass, and then turned to each other, laughter in their eyes. 

"You realize how juvenile this is, My Lady?" he asked, smiling. 

Mira smiled in return, and said nothing. They lay there in silence until Mira's falcon returned, a duck in its beak. Mordred took the duck, and put it in a satchel, and Mira placed the blindfold over her bird's eyes. They walked toward their horses who were munching happily at the edge of the clearing. And then his hand found hers, and clasped her small fingers in his own. 

When they returned to the castle, servants were scurrying about, worry lines etched into their foreheads. A faint screaming echoed throughout the halls. And then she heard the name "Queen Guenivere." 

"I must go to her," she cried, untangling her hand from Mordred's. He nodded, and let her go. She ran through the halls, her skirts in her hand, her shoes echoing against the stone floor. When she reached the Queen's room, the screaming began again, misery and pain apparent in the call. Ignoring the servant's protests, Mira pushed open the door, and hurried towards Guenivere bed, where the queen lay in a miserable state, shaking and sobbing. Mira sat on the edge of her bed and stroked the Queen's hair. "Guen? What's the matter? What has happened? Are you sick? Is it Launcelott?" 

At his name, the Queen's cries grew louder. Mira hushed her, and pulled Guenivere into her arms. The Queen sobbed onto her shoulder. "Please, Guen. What has happened? Shall I ask a servant to tell me?" Guenivere nodded, and Mira left her amid a tangle of sheets. She found a guard outside the Queen's chamber, "What has happened?" she demanded. 

The man stared straight ahead, "Sir Launcelott was found in the Lady Elaine's bed. He has gotten a child upon her." 

Mira gasped, "How can you tell so soon?" 

"Merlin has prophesied that it is so," he answered. 

Mira stared into his eyes, "But that is not all, is it? There is more! Why do you refrain from telling me? Tell me what else has happened?" 

A single tear ran down the man's face at her anger, and she instantly regretted her harsh tone, "He was also in the Lady Morgan's bed. He has gotten a child upon her as well." 

Mira cried out, "Has Merlin prophesied this as well?" The man nodded, and she cried out, "No! How can this be? Has Launcelott forgotten all his honor?" 

"Not all," he replied. "Sir Launcelott has announced his intentions to marry the Lady Elaine, and to pay to support the Lady Morgan's child." 

"Has the Lady Morgan accepted this?" she asked, frowning. 

"No, my Lady," the man replied. "She cursed his name, and left the castle early this morning, refusing any escort. She has ridden into the forest alone." 

"Is this all?" Mira asked. The man nodded. "As you were," she ordered, and slipped back into Guenivere's room. 

She placed the Queen's head in her lap, "Oh Guen, every time he lay with you, he was betraying his kingdom. You know Launcelott's honor. He could not have kept it up for long. Perhaps it is all for the best?" But the Queen would not hear of it, and her sobbing continued into the night. 

Mira slept in the Queen's bed that night, and comforted her friend when she awoke crying. In the morning, she lay awake, watching Guenivere's shallow breathing. The Queen reminded Mira of a child. Her hair was the color of wheat, and her face appeared to belong on a china doll. But she was thin. Fashionably thin, yes, but too thin to bear children. 

When Guenivere woke, she lay still staring at the stone ceiling. Then she turned to Mira, and stared at the girl. "I want to tell you a story," Guenivere whispered. Mira nodded, and waited for the Queen to continue.

"I was thirteen when my betrothal to Arthur was announced. I had heard tales of the great King, but had never met him before in my life. I had not expected to marry higher than a minor lord. I was an orphan. My parents were both dead, and so I lived with my Aunt Katherine and her husband, King Gerald of Loedegrance. Before I ever heard of my marriage to Arthur, I met a knight. He was young and handsome, but he cared naught for my looks, only my singing and my personality. I was riding in the forest near my home one day, singing to the trees, covered in hay and dirt from an earlier fall, when I saw him. He had been watching me for some time, and I was immediately embarrassed. He approached me and told me how beautiful my voice was, and introduced himself as Sir Launcelott. We both shared a passion for horses, and fell in love. He was a guest at my Aunt and Uncle's home during that time, and I gave myself to him. He was the first man I ever had, the only man besides Arthur. When notice came from the High King that I was to marry him, Launcelott and I were beside ourselves, but Launcelott promised always to remain faithful to me. He was my escort to Camelot and we were both introduced to the High King the same day. Arthur had great respect for Launcelott's fighting ability, and appointed him the King's champion. Arthur was young and fit at the time, and the kindest man I had ever met besides Launcelott. We were married before the whole kingdom, and our marriage was blissful, and full of happiness. I believed that if I could not have Launcelott, that Arthur could make me happy. And for a while it was so. Of course I bore no children, but Arthur assured me that in time, children would come. After two years, I lost hope, but Arthur was always strong. He always said that God would bring me a child, but a child never came. After our fifth year of marriage he began lying with other women, but none of them bore him children either. He fell into despair. He decided the fault lay with him. He ceased to appear in court, and Ygraine was forced to come out of her grief for her recently killed husband, Uther. Ygraine began to hold court in Arthur's stead, and Camelot continued on, even without its King. Soon after, Arthur stopped exercising and meeting with the knights. He fell out of practice with the sword, and became a useless, fat oaf. He took more and more women to his bed, not caring who they were. He does not know, but he has born a son. One woman he took to his bed did bear a child. A bastard child, but a child nonetheless. He begot a son on his own sister, Morgaine. His own sister! Mordred is his son, and he does not even know it. My Arthur, who was once so happy and whole, now lives in despair, caring for nothing but matters of the flesh. I wonder if I told him he had a son, if he would break his isolation. But I cannot tell him. I cannot face the man who was once my husband. And so Camelot will die with no heir, and no king."

Mira sat in silence after she finished, breathing heavily, tears forming in my eyes. Mordred was Arthur's son. The man, who had forced her into his bed, was the father of her beloved Mordred. She found it difficult to breathe. They sat in silence, tears sliding down both of their cheeks as they embraced.

Mira received a letter from Morganna about a week later, inviting her to visit her in Orkney. It gave her an idea. She took the letter to the Queen, and they both agreed it would be a good way to get away from castle life for a while, and so they prepared to take their leave. For weeks the castle was abuzz, making preparations for our journey. Dresses had to be packed, and escorts had to be found. When they had finally gathered themselves together, they received a surprise visitor. The carriages were waiting outside the castle gates, and they rode their horses to them. Guenivere and Mira dismounted, and then they saw her. It was the Lady Morgan, standing at the side of their carriage. Anger flashed through Guenivere's eyes, but Mira restrained her. 

"Lady Morgan, what can we do for you?" Mira asked, staring at her disheveled appearance. She had obviously been living in the woods all this time. 

"I request to join you in your journey to Orkney. I wish to visit my parents," she asked, staring coldly at Guenivere.

Guenivere opened her mouth to speak, but Mira silenced her. They could not refuse her. "Certainly, my Lady. Though I'm sure you would rather ride in the second carriage, so that you might lie down," she said, making her tone clear that there would be no negotiations. 

She nodded, glaring at her, and headed to the second carriage. 

Mira turned to Guenivere, "At least we shall not have to ride with her," she said, and stepped into the carriage. 

It took about a month for their caravan to reach Orkney, but their arrival was joyful. She and Morganna ran towards each other, and embraced. She looked down at Morganna's bulging stomach, and smiled, "Congratulations!" 

She thanked her, and then turned to the Queen. She curtsied, and the Queen lifted her. "I'm so glad to see you, Child," Guenivere smiled, and pulled Morganna into an embrace. 

When Morganna saw her sister, she stopped still, "What is she doing here?" 

Mira replied, and Morganna and Morgan stared at each other, "You are not welcome in this house," Morganna hissed.

Mira stared in shock at Morganna's outrage, and laid a hand on her friend's arm, "Her crime has been committed by many. Do you not think she has suffered enough?" 

Morganna's eyes narrowed, but never left her sister's face, "Her crime is far worse than you could ever imagine."

Morgaine and Lot welcomed Morgan into their home, but Morganna refused to remain in the same room as her sister. Guenivere held court often, but Mira preferred to stay with Morganna, and since Morgan usually attended court, Mira saw Guenivere very little. 

Mira's biggest surprise was a visit by the man she feared most in the world, even more than the King: Merlin. She had long since feared sorcery and witchcraft, and Merlin's very name was nearly synonymous with the words. He came in the dead of the night, but surprised after two rapes in her life, she feared no rape from him. He was not as old as she had expected him to be. He had black hair with silver lines running threw it, and his beard was about a hands width long. He bowed when she jumped from her bed at his appearance at her door. 

"My lady Resmiranda, I have come a long way to see you. I have foreseen that very soon the Lady Nimue will take me somewhere and put me to rest for a very long time, longer than you can fathom, and I shall not be here to advise anyone any longer. I have seen many things concerning your future, but only this shall I tell you: Be faithful to your heart, your values, and your morals, and you shall win the upcoming war against Arthur's tyranny," he prophesied.

Mira in turn asked him a question, "You advised Arthur for most of his life. If, as you say, there is to be a war against his 'tyranny' why would you help the opposite side?"

Merlin's beard turned to fire, and his entire face seemed bent on rage, "I too can see what goes on in Camelot! I am not as blind as most make me out to be! Arthur was a good king once, yes. But he is no longer the king Camelot needs. I told Arthur when I raised him, that his time would come, and so it will." With his words, Merlin vanished into thin air, and Mira was left with more questions than she had started with.

Mira and Morganna remained in Morganna's bedroom most often, talking about one thing or another. But mostly Mira talked about Mordred, and Morganna soon began to realize that her friend was in love with her dear brother. 

The Saxons attacked Briton again that summer, and they waited out the war in Orkney, terrified for their men at home. Arthur did not fight, but sent Launcelott and Mordred in his stead to lead the troops. Sir Kay had been called for, and had left Orkney earlier that summer with a large army. The Saxons landed upon the Northeastern shore, and crept through the Saxon colonies already formed there. Since Arthur had no lookouts at that point, they were able to make their way much farther inland than anyone would have liked, and so the war raged in the middle of Briton. 

Stories came to them of Launcelott and Mordred's heroism, and bravery in leading the troops, and Guenivere, Morganna, and Mira waited in terror. 

Briton drove the Saxons from their shores once more, and destroyed the Saxon colonies along the coast. Launcelott and Mordred set up a watch point where the colonies had been, and so saved Briton once more. 

Launcelott returned to Camelot and to his wife, Elaine who had recently born him his son. But Mordred and Kay returned to Orkney, and to the women that loved them.

The day the army arrived, Guenivere, Morganna and Mira sat in a small sitting room, idly sewing and making small talk, when a knock came at the door. They stood, and a guard entered the room.

"My Ladies, if it pleases you, Sir Mordred and Sir Kay have arrived," he announced.

Guenivere remained, but Morganna and Mira rushed from the room, through corridors, and into the Great Hall. Morganna flew across the room and into her husband's arms, and he pulled her from the chamber. Mira and Mordred were left alone. 

He stared at her, and smiled, "I would not have thought it possible, but you seem even more beautiful than I remember."

She blushed and started to turn her face away, but he caught it in his hand, and brought his lips towards hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life. He kissed her with all his pent up passion, and they pulled away, breathless.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I could not help myself," he grinned, helplessly. And then he knelt before her, "Lady Resmiranda, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. I would like nothing more than to have you as my wife. Will you marry me?"

She stared at him, and broke down sobbing. 

His face crumpled, and he stood, and handed her his kerchief. "I'm sorry, my Lady. It was forward of me to ask. I understand."

She shook her head, and smiled through her tears, "No, I'm crying because I'm so happy. Yes, yes I will marry you!"

He took her in his arms, and carried her up to his bedchamber, and in that moment, they were blissfully happy.

Their happiness was stolen away from them, however. When Morgaine heard of the match, she forbade it. And as she was his mother, Mordred unhappily called the betrothal off. Morgaine wrote to Arthur and asked him to find a husband for Mira, and Arthur idly chose one of his knights at court, at his sister's request. He chose Sir Percival.

The weeks before the wedding were numb, and Mira chose not to feel anything. Morganna and Guenivere tried to reach her, but she stayed locked in her room. Once again, a man would take her against her will. Mordred returned to Camelot, rather than watch the wedding, and the entire ceremony went by in a blur. 

After the wedding, there was a celebration in the great hall, but Mira refused to go. Instead she went to her room and waited for Percival to come to her. She crawled into bed, curled up in a ball, and fell fast asleep.

When she woke, he was sitting in a chair, watching her. She stared at him, and tears fell down her cheeks. His face was pained, and he sat on the edge of the bed. Wiping tears from her face, he whispered, "I married you because the King ordered it, but I love you. I'll never hurt you. And this marriage never has to be consummated if you don't want it to be." 

She burst into tears. His face contorted in pain. "I'll be in the next room." She shook her head emphatically, and he stared at her, confused. 

"Stay. It comforts me," she pleaded. He nodded. She lifted the covers for him to climb in. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. He took off his sword, and his belt, and placed them on a hook in the wall. He crawled into bed, and lay next to her, staring into her tearful eyes. Percival pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, and bent forward and kissed her on her forehead. They fell asleep staring at each other. 

They returned to Camelot the next day, and soon settled into a routine life. The King could have made a worse choice, and while Resmiranda adamantly told herself she would never lie with Percival, she soon became with child. She saw Mordred often. It was hard not to see him. The castle was only so big. He politely offered his congratulations, but his eyes burned with jealousy and pain. 

Launcelott and Mordred had managed to keep the Saxons at bay for two years now, and so all of Briton was shocked to find another Saxon attack along the Southeastern shore. Launcelott and Mordred led the troops off to war, while Arthur waited out the war from the safety of his bed. The castle seemed empty without the men. There were no daily exercises of swordplay, no pounding of hooves as they practiced formations, and no husbands for the wives left at home. Many of the women abandoned Camelot, for the war was much closer to home this time. Mira, Ygraine, and Guenivere chose to seek refuge in Orkney, and Mira and Morganna were united once more. Morganna's daughter, Catherine, was three years old now, and already proving to be just as beautiful as her mother was. 

Resmiranda gave birth several months after they had arrived. Morganna, Guenivere, Ygraine, and even her old maid Holly, helped her in the birthing process. Morganna remembered little pain, for Morganna had given her an herb to subdue it. After an entire night of labor, Mira gave birth to two beautiful dark haired twin boys. The bliss that usually follows a birthing was short-lived. News came from Camelot that the Saxons had been defeated. Normally this would have been cause for joy, but not under the circumstances. Over half of the army of Briton had been slaughtered. And so once again the women waited anxiously for their husbands to return from war. Ygraine and Guenivere returned to Camelot, but Mira was too weak to be moved, and so she remained in Orkney. A letter came to Morganna informing her of Sir Kay's death, and Morganna locked herself in her room, weeping. On that same day a letter came for Mira. She opened it with trembling fingers, dreading the contents.

My Dear Resmiranda,

Your husband has returned from the war, and must remain in Camelot to recover from his wounds. Do not despair or worry for him, for he shall be recovered soon enough. He has asked me to write to you and inform you that he shall come to Orkney once he is well to see your sons. I suppose you know that Launcelott has returned to Camelot, and to his wife. Seeing them together causes me less pain than it used to. His happiness is all that matters to me anymore. You will be happy to know that Mordred has returned as well. Before I put down my pen, I want you to know that Percival will surely know your children are not his own. But your husband is a kind and just man. He will raise them as his own, even knowing they are of Mordred's blood. I hope you are recovering well, and enjoying your time with your dear friend, Morganna.

Love always,

Guenivere

Mira put down the letter, and closed her eyes. She had prayed that no one would notice the resemblance between her sons and Mordred. Percival was fair-haired, as was she. When they had been born there had been no doubt in her mind that they were Mordred's sons. She had been faithful to Percival, but had given herself to Mordred before she had even married her husband. She agreed with Guenivere, however. Percival would raise the children as his own, but it would cause him pain every time he saw them. 

The day came when Percival returned home. His wife welcomed him with open arms, but when he saw their children, a cloud seemed to follow him everywhere. He loved his sons despite knowing that he was not their father, and he continued to love and dote on his wife. His kind heart and goodness of character kept him from speaking his presumptions. Even when Mordred came to visit his family, Percival welcomed him like a brother. Mira watched it all with a growing sadness in her heart. She knew she had caused them both great pain and suffering.

And then one day, Holly announced that Mordred was at her door. At first she panicked. What would Percival think? But as she prepared her stateroom for his visit, she realized deep in her heart that he was not there to see her, but their children. 

She let him in and he politely kissed her hand, but avoided looking her straight in the eye.

"My Lady Resmiranda, you grow lovelier every day," he complimented her, but his heart was not in it. "May I visit your children?"

She nodded, and led him to an adjoining room. His face lit up as he saw the twins lying in their cribs. He picked Johnathan up, and swung him in the air, laughing the whole while. 

"You'll be a great knight someday. You'll make your father so proud!" He exclaimed, but his face suddenly darkened and he placed the child back in his crib.

Mira placed her hand over his, "What is it Mordred?"

He turned away from her and was silent for a moment, "At least they have a father." And he broke down, crying. 

Mira took him in her arms, hushed him, and stroked his hair. "You have a father," she whispered in his ear.

He lashed out at her, "A father, yes, but has he acknowledged me? He is not the man my mother married. I don't even know who he is, and Lott has never treated me like a son. Percival will raise them as his own, as Lott never did for me." 

She was silent, thoughts racing through her head, and then she spoke, "Arthur is your father." The silence was deafening, and only broken when Boadin let out a wail. Mira lifted him from his crib and cradled the child against her shoulder. She looked up at Mordred, expecting a look of horror upon his face. A broad grin was placed there instead. She looked at him in surprise as he began to speak.

"That's why he never claimed me. It isn't because he didn't want me. It's because he couldn't want me. What would people think if they knew the king had had an illicit affair with his own sister?" he exclaimed.

But still Mira stared at him, "Mordred, why does this news comfort you?"

"Mira, the king has no heir. He will have to choose me and acknowledge me even if he will lose popularity because of it," he explained.

"He doesn't know you're his child. Morgaine never told him. No one knows but she, Guenivere, and I," Mira told him, tears welling up in her eyes.

A look of betrayal flashed across his face, "How long have you known?" he whispered.

She looked away from his pained face, trying to hide her tears. "Do you remember the first time you ever saw my falcon?" she asked.

He nodded, anger flickering in his eyes. "Three years ago? You've known for three years and you haven't told him or me. You denied me the one thing I wanted to know more than anything else in the world."

Mira's hands grew cold, and she lay the now quiet Boadin in his crib. "Mordred, you have to understand... Arthur.. I..." 

But he wouldn't let her speak, "I loved you! I love you even now. You bore my children, and you married another man!" he seethed. 

At this Mira felt a wave of anger searing through her body, "YOU were the one who called off the proposal. YOU were the one who listened to your wicked mother. YOU weren't forced into a marriage with a woman you didn't love. I am the one who has suffered. My husband will have to live with the knowledge that his children are not his own for the rest of his life. YOU have brought this misery upon me, so don't try to make me feel sorry for YOU!" she yelled with sarcasm and hatred in her voice. "If you want a father so badly, you go tell Arthur. _Like father, like son._" she spat, as she gathered her children into her arms. She went into her apartment, and didn't ever look back.

When Percival came to her that night, she cried on his shoulder, and he asked no questions of her. They returned to Camelot several weeks later, and Mira bid Morganna a tearful goodbye. Mordred accompanied them on the journey. He and Percival exchanged war wounds and stories, while Mira rode behind them, grieving at the sight of every wound and the telling of every tale. 

When they arrived at the King's court, Mira retired to her room, but she watched wearily as Mordred set out to see the King. Percival went to visit Launcelott, and Mira was left alone with the children. She was feeding Johnathan when Guenivere entered the room, horror written across her face. Mira nearly dropped her child as she jumped up. "He's told Arthur, hasn't he, Guen?" 

Guenivere nodded, her eyes filling with tears, "Arthur has declared him his rightful heir, and he has cast me aside. He plans to bring Morgaine here and install her as Queen." 

Mira gasped as the twisted words escaped her friend's mouth, "He plans to take his own sister as his wife?"

But Guenivere shook her head, "Even Arthur is not that stupid. There is an old Celtic custom that states that the King's sister can be declared Queen."

Tears ran down Mira's face, and she embraced Guenivere. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't told Mordred..."

Guenivere interrupted her, "Do not blame yourself. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He's been planning to cast me aside for years now. He takes women to his bed by the dozens, caring not if they are willing or not."

At this Mira trembled, and pulled away from her friend. She looked down at her tiny children, and tried to forget the past. 

But Guenivere wouldn't allow it. "Mira...did he?" Guenivere choked out.

Mira couldn't answer and she started sobbing uncontrollably. Guen engulfed her in her arms, "Oh you poor thing... you must have been a child still. Was it when you first came to Camelot?" 

Mira nodded, and heaved an enormous sob. "I..." she tried to speak. "I didn't want to. He made me," she sobbed. 

Guenivere hushed her, "Shhh," she whispered. "My husband is a dog. He took Morganna as well. Did you know that?"

Mira gasped, "Morganna told you?"

Guenivere nodded, a look of surprise on her face. "Are you growing a new orchard?" she whispered so quietly that Mira could barely hear her.

Mira looked at her in extreme confusion. "What in the world are you talking about?"

And then a light lit up in Guenivere's eyes. "You would never tell, would you? Of course you wouldn't," she chastened herself. "We've started an alliance. We're going to kill the King." Guenivere waited for Mira's reaction, and grinned when a smile began to form on Mira's face.

"Who else is in this alliance?" Mira asked.

Guenivere seemed to come alive, "Nine of the twelve nights of the round table. Percival, Mordred, and Launcelott are the only three remaining. Many families all over the city, both rich and poor. You need merely to ask someone, 'Are you growing a new orchard?' and if they reply, 'Yes, we are planting our first tree indoors,' you shall know they are an ally. We've all grown tired of Arthur's tyranny, and we're going to put it to an end." 

Mira was silent for a long time, "What can I do to help?" She drew a deep breath, already knowing what Guenivere would ask of her.

"Tell Percival that Arthur raped you. He will join us only then. Tell Mordred, as well, and he shall follow. Take Morganna with you when you tell Mordred. He will be hard to convince, but you must convince him of the truth. If he is to be the King's heir, he must be in on it. I have already talked to Launcelott. He will not side against his precious king." Tears welled in Guenivere's eyes, but she pushed them away. 

Mira nodded, knowing she had just condemned them all to civil war.

Mira wrote to Morganna, and told her all that had happened. While she waited for Morganna to arrive, she watched Mordred. He and Arthur appeared in public together often. It was the first time the King had emerged from his room in years. They never parted and it seemed to all that it had always been this way. Every time Arthur lay his fat hand on Mordred's shoulder, Mira cringed, remembering that hand upon her.

When Morganna finally arrived, she and Mira spent much of their time holed up in Mira's chambers. They tended to the children, and began to plan how they could approach Mordred and Percival. Although Guenivere had made it out to seem like an easy task, both seemed impossible. Both Mordred and Percival had sworn their allegiance to Arthur, and it would not be easy to break that bond of loyalty. Morganna assured Mira that both the men would listen to her for they both loved her with all of their being. And so Mira decided to approach Percival, whom she was sure would be an easier target. 

She found Percival in the palace gardens, and they strolled hand in hand in silence for a while. At last she spoke, "Percival, there's something I need to talk to you about." His eyes lit up with concern, and he led her to a stone bench.

"Percival..." she began, tears already falling. "I don't know how to tell you this." He wiped away her tears and tried to speak, but she cut him off, "Please... please just let me say this while I have the courage." She drew a deep breath and he was silent, "Five years ago when I first came to the castle, I was raped." 

He jumped into the conversation, "I know, Dearest. I know. I knew it the moment I found you, but it has never affected my love for you. It wasn't your fault. You were only thirteen and..."

"I was raped twice," she whispered. "Once before I came to the castle, and once after." 

At this Percival went white as a sheet, "Who was it? By God, I'll kill them. Who was it, Mira?"

"Arthur," she managed to get out. The silence was deafening. Somehow Mira found the courage to go on, "Arthur is a tyrant. He's evil. I'm not the only girl who he took unwillingly into his bed. He took Morganna as well, and countless others. He dishonors his queen every day in mind, body, and spirit, yet she has always stood by him. She married him despite her love for Launcelott. She respected him as king and married him even though her heart belonged to another. And now he casts her aside after everything he has done to her." She grew excited now, "But we're going to end his tyranny. I've joined an alliance. An alliance that goes from the former queen and nine of the twelve knights of the round table, down to the lowliest peasant. We'll replace him, and Camelot will be reborn. Can't you see it? Happiness in Camelot once again! Can't you see it?" She was flushed with excitement, but her husband remained pale and distant. 

"I hope for your sake, Mira, that I am the last one you tell this to," he said quietly. He got up and made to leave, but Mira grabbed his sleeve.

"How can you say you love me and not help me in this? He's evil..."

He caught her midsentence, "I will not hear slander against my king. This is blasphemy. Treason!"

"Your king? Your precious king?" she spat. "What has your precious king ever done for you? Send you off into pointless wars while he stays in his safe little room sleeping with countless women? "

His eyes turned cold, "You don't know Arthur. He was a great man once. He can be a great man still."

She stared at him in grim silence, "You are not my husband." She left him then. The next time she would see him they would be on opposite sides of war. 

Tears began falling rapidly, and she ran blindly through the castle halls, caring naught where she was headed. She didn't even notice when the normal bustle of the castle was silent, as she approached the royal quarters. Guenivere caught her by the wrist, seeming to pop out of nowhere.

"Mira, what happened?" she asked kindly, and stared deep into her friend's eyes.

"Percival... he will not... he..." but she couldn't go on, and she wrenched her arm away, and continued running. She ran until she hit something quite solid, and fell backwards onto the hard stone floor.

She woke and found herself lying on a lush couch in a grand chamber. She thought she recognized the room, but she couldn't be sure. And then Mordred's concerned face appeared and it was all she could do to keep from crying. "Mordred..." but he hushed her, and called to someone in another room. A physician entered, followed closely by a man. She saw a flash of recognition in the man's eyes, and she suddenly realized where she was. "Your highness..." she whispered. 

He looked at her warily, and she thought she saw a flash of guilt and compassion in his eyes. She must have been mistaken, because when she looked again it was replaced by a hard stare, "My lady, my physician will look after you and make sure there is no serious damage." He and Mordred left the room, and the physician examined her few wounds. 

His hands shook as he did his work, and she could see something was on the man's mind. 

"What is your name, doctor?" she asked cordially. 

"Horace, My Lady," he replied, but nervousness still clouded his face.

"Horace?" she whispered.

"Yes, My Lady?" he croaked.

"Are you growing a new orchard?" she whispered, and hoped if he was not in the alliance, he would take her bizarre statement as an effect of her weak condition.

But the man recoiled, and looked over his shoulder in a panic. "He's in the next room!" he hissed. But after looking over his shoulder, he whispered, "Yes, we are planting our first tree indoors."

"Once I am back in my chambers, come visit me. Your former Queen will be with me as well," she whispered back.

He nodded, and finished checking her joints, "You'll be fine, My Lady. No serious damage. Shall I escort you to your chambers?"

She shook her head, "Will you ask Prince Mordred to accompany me?"

He left, and soon returned with both the king and Mordred at his side. 

The king turned to her and nodded, "I hope you will fare well, Lady..."

"Resmiranda De' Bertru, Your Highness," she replied.

He kissed her hand, and stared at her once more, "Farewell, My Lady."

Mordred took her by the arm, and walked with her through the halls. He could tell something was upsetting her, but she was thankful that he said nothing. It wouldn't be safe to talk until she was inside her chambers. They reached the chambers, and after settling her onto a couch in her sitting room, picked up a child in each arm. She watched as he bounced each on his hip, and tears began to fall from seeing him so happy. He saw her tears, put the children back in their cribs, and rushed toward her. 

He knelt on the floor in front of her and took her hands in his, "Mira, please tell me what's happened."

And in a rush it all came out. She told him about Arthur, the rape, Percival, Guenivere, Morganna, the alliance. When she was done her face was wet with tears, and he ran a hand through her hair. 

"You've seen so much suffering," he whispered, and stared into her teary eyes. "Mira, I love you. I could never stand by a man who did that to you. You have my word that I will see this through." 

"Oh, Mordred," she sobbed, and threw her arms around him. "I knew you would. I knew you would." She cried into his shoulder for a long time, and finally he tipped her chin up. 

"I love you with all of my heart. I always have. I've loved you since 

the first day I met you. You with your raggedy hair, and men's clothes. You were, and still are the most beautiful woman I had ever met," and then he was kissing her. Their lips met, and all her sadness fell away. The world was right again when she was in his arms. Nothing mattered except that moment. He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her neck. They could not get enough of one another. She hardly noticed when they moved from the sitting room into the bedroom. 

Horace, the King's physician, came to see her several days later. Guenivere, Morganna, Mordred, and Kay were waiting for him. They were deep in discussion, and Morganna's daughter, Catherine, who was now five years old, was playing with the twins in the corner of the room. 

Mordred was deep in argument with Sir Kay, "We will not bring ourselves to that level. Poison is a coward's weapon."

The room grew quiet as Horace entered. Kay and Mordred looked up at him, full of skepticism. "Are you growing a new orchard?" one of them asked.

"Yes. We are planting our first tree indoors." At this the room visibly relaxed. Kay even smiled, as he pulled a chair out for Horace to sit upon. 

Guenivere lay a hand on the man's shoulder, "As you all know, this is the king's physician. He has joined our little group today because of his close position to the king. He will be our spy in whatever may come, and he will inform us all of the king's every move."

With that settled, the group turned back to the topic of _how _to kill the king, and Mordred and Kay once again began arguing about poison.

"We're not asking to be heroes, Mordred. And we need to make your succession as King look as normal as possible. With poison we could make it look as though he died in his sleep. Praise the Gods, we would even have his physician's word for it. You are already his heir, and you could simply take up the throne," Kay reasoned.

Mordred looked tempted, but he grimaced, "There is no honor in such a way. I will not have it."

Guenivere interrupted them before they went at it again, "Whatever happens, we need to make sure it looks as though Mordred were not involved. Mordred, the fact of the matter is, _you _will not be killing Arthur, no matter the means by which he is killed."

Another argument ensued after this. Mordred for his honor, Kay for his poison, Morganna for declaring an all out war, Guenivere for challenging the king to a duel, and Mira for murdering him in his sleep. Only Horace sat by and watched as the arguments ensued. 

The next day Mira sat alone with Mordred, watching her children sleep. She clutched his hand, and lay her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Mordred. Can you believe they're a year old?"

He shook his head and stroked Mira's hair gently. "They will see many more birthdays," he promised. The moment after that was one of peace, and hopefulness for what was to come. Neither of them could have ever imagined the fate to which they would be bestowed.

Morganna, Kay, Mordred, Guenivere, Horace, and Mira met once again in Mira's chambers. Morgaine had just arrived at the castle, and had taken her position as queen. Guenivere pretended that nothing was bothering her, and went about the meeting without showing her true feelings. 

Mordred spoke first, "I have to kill him."

There were objections from all sides, but Mordred quieted them, "Listen to me. I'm the only one close enough to him. Horace could do it, but I doubt the man has any skill with a sword. Am I right?" Horace nodded, and Mordred continued, "This is the best way. The king is out of practice, and everyone knows how skilled I am. I will go to him in his chambers at night, and challenge him. I will kill my father, and put an end to his reign of tyranny." There was no talking him out of it, and in the end, the group finally agreed. They set a date a fortnight later, and agreed not to meet again until the deed was done. 

Mira and the twins moved into Mordred's chambers, despite the palace gossip. She cared naught for what the palace had to say. She simply wanted to be with the man she loved. 

Morgaine came to visit Mordred often, and she flaunted her authority as queen with Mira. She would sit in their room, and turn to Mira, "_Child, _this has gone on far enough, don't you think? Your husband has certainly gotten the picture. It is time for you to go home to him. Think of your children. They must grow up with a father. Whatever malady has driven you from Sir Percival, I'm sure it is not all that bad. Besides, you ruin my son's reputation whilst you stay here. Imagine, the King's son sleeping with a married woman! If you do not care for your reputation, can you not think of Mordred's?" Mordred would eventually quiet his mother's complaints, but she would always be back the next day to chip away at Mira's resolve once again. 

And then the night of the King's death came upon them. Mira clutched to Mordred the entire day, unable to hide how worried she was for his safety. When night fell, they remained alone in their chambers. Mordred began to dress himself, "It's time, my love." She tried to persuade him not to go, but he wouldn't hear it. "You knew this time would come. I'll be fine, and I shall return to you soon." He kissed her forehead, sheathed his sword, and strode from the room. 

Morganna came and sat with Mira as they waited for Mordred to return. They turned to their embroidery and silence fell upon them. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of the twins playing in the next room. At last there was a sound at the door, and it swung open. Mordred fell through it, dripping blood upon the stone floor. Mira ran to him. "Mordred! Oh, Mordred! What's happened? Is Arthur dead? Are you hurt badly? Morganna! Run and fetch some water and bandages!" Mira helped him into the other room, and lay him upon the bed. He had a gaping wound in his shoulder, and blood poured from it. Mira applied pressure to the wound as Mordred began to speak.

"Arthur was waiting for me. Not for me, per say, but he knew of our plans. Percival and Launcelott had warned him. They were both with him when I arrived. They were sitting at a large table, drinking brandy and playing cards when I opened the doors to his chambers. I was surprised to find them with him, but not alarmed. I was the King's son. They would let me be alone with my father. But as I approached the table, Percival got a strange look in his eye. A look of suspicion, and he spoke to me, 'Are you growing a new orchard?' I glanced at him in surprise, forgetting why I was there. Had Percival finally joined us? I wondered. But as soon as I replied, I knew it was a trap. I knew you must have told him everything, and as I gave the traitorous reply, they all jumped from their chairs. My sword was out by then, and I fought the three of them with all of my being. I wounded Arthur, and he collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood. But I still had Launcelott and Percival to contend with. They both fought well, but in the end I bested Percival. I ran my sword through him, and he fell dead onto the floor." At this he paused and looked up at Mira's face to see her reaction, but she urged him to continue. "Launcelott and I continued to fight, but neither of us could best the other. He caught my shoulder with his sword, and I would have gone down had it not been for Horace. As I fell to the floor, clutching the wound, there was suddenly another man in the room, drawing a bow. I thought at first that the arrow was meant for me, and I prepared for the worst. But it met Launcelott square through his sword arm, and he screamed in agony. Launcelott and I both knew that the fight was over, and we stared at each other in silence. He went to Arthur, and gathered him over his shoulders. I spoke to Launcelott for the first time, 'You'll have to leave. There are more of us. He will not be safe here.' Launcelott nodded, and there seemed to come a peace between us. He staggered from the room, his heavy king upon his limber frame. Arthur was the last to speak, 'This means war, Mordred.' Horace helped me back to our chambers, but he returned to the King's rooms to clean up the blood." He was silent as he finished his tale, and he grimaced as Mira pulled a knife from a drawer nearby. 

"You did the right thing, Mordred. Don't worry about it now," she hushed him. She gestured to the knife, "A cross will heal better than a circle. You know this." Without waiting for his reply, Mira sliced a cross straight through the circular wound. Mordred gritted his teeth with the pain, but didn't make a sound. Morganna, who had been standing quietly in the doorway for quite some time, rushed forward with the bandages and water. They cleaned up the excess blood, and then wrapped his shoulder with the bandages. They spoke no more of what had happened, and soon Mordred drifted off to sleep. Morganna and Mira left the bedroom, and closed the door soundly behind them. 

As soon as it was shut, Morganna spoke out, "We must prepare. We must announce Mordred's rule over Camelot, and rid the city of those who support Arthur." Mira agreed, and they both left Mira's chambers, and went in search of Guenivere. 

They found Guenivere in her chambers with the nine knights, Kay, Galahad, Cai, Cerdic, Bedwyr, Bedegran, Anuran, Sentulus, and Hain. Mira and Morganna burst in upon them, "Arthur and Launcelott have fled. We must announce Mordred's rule now before Arthur can gather much of a following," Mira announced. Conversation began to stir among the room, but Sir Kay and Bedwyr silenced the others. 

"We must address the city as a united front. All of the knights must be there. Mordred must address them as king, and give those who wish to leave a change to flee the city," Bedwyr proclaimed. 

The group agreed, and together they went to fetch Mordred. The ladies waited in the chamber outside the bedroom, while the knights dressed him in his finest armor, careful to hide the wound in his shoulder. When he came from the room, he looked an entirely different man. His features screamed of regal blood, and he looked very much a king with his purple cloak and crown. Even Mira was awed beyond speech. They made their way to a balcony that overlooked the city square, and when they arrived, the ladies stood behind as the knights paraded out to overlook the city. Mira watched from behind a curtain as Mordred formed his first words as King of Britain, "My people, you have known me before now as Prince Mordred, the son of your King. Let me tell you now the true story of your king. Your traitorous, vicious king. Arthur may once have been a great man, but his deeds and actions now place him lower than any peasant. He rapes and forces women into his bed. He ignores the matters of his kingdom, and places no matter on the needs of anyone but himself. Where is the honor in this? _Where is the honor, I ask you?" _He paused for a few moments and then hurried on, "I welcome you all to a new era. An era with a king who respects his people, treats them as if they were his own kin. Arthur has fled from Camelot, and I greet you all now as your king." There was cheering in the crowd, and the rest of Mordred's words were drowned out by the people. "If you wish to join Arthur, I ask that you leave now, for there will be no mercy for those who pity the traitorous old man. And those of you who stay, will you fight to keep the tyrant from returning to power? _Will you fight?" _The crowd screamed that they would, and Mordred lowered his voice, "Civil war is sure to come over this, but we shall prevail. Good always prevails in the face of evil!" Cheers came from the crowd once more, and Mordred quieted them, "Tonight we celebrate!" The roar of the crowd was deafening.

The town was loud that night. Shouts and cheers rang through the streets. Morgaine, and her attendants were packed up and shipped off to join Arthur's entourage. Mordred stayed in that night, pouring over maps. Arthur had fled in the direction of Orkney, so Mordred pondered over the best defenses from that course. Mira tried to persuade him to take a break from his work, but nothing would tear him away. He worked late into the night, and finally ordered a double guard and retired to bed. 

When he finally came to bed, Mira helped him dress in the King's robe. She kissed his neck, and chin. "You look like a king, Your Majesty," she whispered. 

He turned to her and stared deep in her eyes, "I have ruined your reputation, but I would still ask for you as my queen." 

She smiled wistfully, but something at the back of her mind tugged at her, "I am content to be your mistress, Milord. Give me time to grieve Percival's death. I will tell you when I am ready," she pleaded.

He smiled back at her and kissed her eyes as tears began to form in them, "May I announce an extended engagement to the court, then?"

She smiled back, "Yes, my love."

The next month went by quietly with no word from or about Arthur except that he arrived in Orkney safely, and Morgaine, and Morgan welcomed him into their home. Foul word came of Morgaine, Morgan, and Morgan's daughter by Launcelott, Morgause. Words of witchcraft and devilry reached the ears of the court. Morganna publicly announced her loyalty to Mordred after being harassed by several women as to where her loyalties lay. Guenivere heard from Launcelott almost daily. He wrote to her vaguely of their whereabouts, though such things as an entire army's location were hard to keep secret. He never gave her any information involving the war, only involving himself and his daily activities. Arthur kept him very busy, it seemed, and Guenivere was surprised he found time to write to her at all. Elaine died that fall and after writing to ask her to raise Elaine and his child, Caroline, he never wrote again. Caroline arrived at court soon after, and was a delight to all. With dark hair, and pale skin like her mother she caught all the young boys' fancy. She was at the time around seven years old, and Guenivere treasured her as if she was her own daughter. 

Boadin and Johnathan turned one that winter, and on their birthday, Mira and Mordred were married before the entire court. It was a fantastic occasion. The hall was decorated as it had never been decorated before, and Guenivere later told Mira that she had never seen so many people come to court before in her entire life. 

"Your reputation as his mistress has not done you ill, you see. Everyone knows your love for one another," Morganna chastened the bride to be. 

Their vows were honest and pure, and no love in all the ages was greater than the love they bore for one another. Morganna was her maid of honor, and Kay was Mordred's best man. Mira was crowned Queen of Camelot the next day, and the ceremony was nearly equal in grandeur. 

It had been almost six months since they had heard any news of Arthur when the alarm was sounded. Mira and Mordred were still asleep when the trumpeters blared. Mordred was dressed in a flurry, and Mira followed close behind, leaving Johnathan and Boadin with Holly. The King and Queen arrived at the council chamber just as Kay arrived, bringing the news of the alarm. 

"Arthur's army marches south. They're heading this way. They're about a five day's ride from here. We can meet them near Luxembury, if we leave today," Sir Kay announced.

"Then we ride!" Mordred agreed.

"Your Majesty, there is one thing I haven't mentioned," Kay blushed, uncertain of himself for some reason.

"Out with it, Kay. You can tell me anything," Mordred comforted him.

"Your Highness, Morgaine, and Morgan ride with them. Everything in their path bursts into flames, yet they carry no fire," Kay whispered, as if his mere mention of it would cause him to burn in hell. He crossed himself, just to be sure.

"Sorcery," Mira whispered.

Mordred whipped around and glared at his wife, "Nonsense! There's no such thing." He turned back to Sir Kay, "Kay, take barrels of water so that we are prepared for this phenomenon. We ride as soon as we can be ready. Every able man willing to go may fight. Spread the word." Kay left without another word, and Mordred turned back to Mira. "Take care of the twins while I am gone," He kissed her long and hard, and turned to go.

Mira grabbed his sleeve, "If Morgaine and Morgan are fighting, then so am I!" 

"Oh no you aren't!" he replied, his eyes narrowing. "You don't even know how to wield a sword. What good could you be to me in battle?" he asked.

"I could help heal the wounded. Please, Mordred. Please!" she cried desperately.

"No, my love. You will stay here," and with that he was gone, and she was left with her frustrated tears and sobs of anger. 

The men were gone for over a year. During that time, Mira met a stablehand named Dustin. Dustin had not gone to the war because he had lost his leg fighting against the Saxons. He walked with a wooden leg, and kept the stables clean and tidy, though most of the animals left were lame like himself. After all, every other horse had left for the war. But the horses that were left were perfect for training a lady to ride, and so he taught her first to ride a horse like a man, with one leg on each side. Once she had mastered that skill, he taught her the use of the sword. He was quick for a man with one leg, and for months she couldn't best him even once. Mira would wind up against the stable wall with a dull blade against her throat. 

"Never leave yourself open like that," he warned her. "Your opponent will get you every time if you do that."  
She nodded, breathing heavily, and placed her hands on her knees, and caught her breath. "Let's go again, Old Man," she taunted him.

He just smiled, and his blade was swinging out of nowhere. She caught it with a block he had taught her, and lunged. He blocked, she lunged again. Another block, another lunge. 'You're getting predictable' his voice spoke inside her head. And so she swung the blade up towards his upper body, and suddenly she had him at his neck. He put his hands up in surrender and dropped his sword. She noticed a drop of blood fall from where her blade touched his neck.

"Dauros! I actualy cut you! Dear lord, forgive me!" she cried, and turned to run for bandages, but he caught her by the wrist.

"Don't sweat it. I've been cut much worse," he assured her, and wiped the dot of blood away. "That was very good," he told her. "But, you still left yourself open. If I had wanted to, and if I weren't so old, I could have gotten you straight in your belly. Maybe its time you invested in a shield, Your Majesty."

The next day Dustin took her to the local blacksmith, who Mira was surprised to find was a woman. Mira paid steeply for the shield, but she wanted the best. She also bought her own sword, made from the finest steel. Both the shield and the sword had a falcon on them. She considered it her signature. 

She trained with Dustin for several more months, until finally he told her there was nothing more that he could teach her, and that she had learned all his secrets. She kept on practicing the exercises he had taught her, however, and kept in shape with the sword and shield. She took up an interest in bows and arrows, and so she went to a man who made them of the finest wood, steel, and feathers. She taught herself to hunt using them, and to shoot at targets from long distances. When the next battle with Arthur came, she would be ready. She never gave much thought to the fact that there wouldn't be a second battle with Arthur. She was used to the battles with the Saxons. They went on and on. She assumed this would as well. 

Johnathan and Boadin were three years old when their father was brought home on a wooden cart, among many wounded soldiers. Mira ran from the castle to see him, and covered her face when she saw that he was still alive. An arrow was stuck straight through him, right above his heart. Half of his body was burnt, and charred beyond recognition. Mira broke down in tears when he called out her name.

"Mira…" he rasped.

"Yes, my love," she replied, and managed to look into his eyes.

"I stayed alive just to see you one more time…. You are so beautiful…" he whispered, coughed up a great deal of blood, and then slumped back onto the cart, his eyes rolled back into his head. 

News of the war finally reached the castle, and all was revealed. Morgaine, and Morgan were indeed sorcerers of some kind: fire bursting forward from their hands. Arthur had been killed at Mordred's hand, and it was Arthur's arrow that had pierced Mordred. It was ironic. The father had killed his son, and the son had killed his father. 

Morgaine and Lott came to take their place as King and Queen, and Mira didn't fight them even though Johnathan and Boadin were the lawful heirs. Morganna, Guenivere, Ygraine, and the children retreated to Orkney. All of their husbands or lovers had been killed in battle now, and they needed to live out the rest of their lives in peace, away from Camelot. 

The years went by and Morganna's daughter, Catherine, fell in love and married. As did Elaine's daughter, Caroline. The aging women were left with the sixteen year old Johnathan and Boadin to live the rest of their lives through. Boadin had plans to enter the priesthood, and Johnathan had dreams of politics and hoped to marry a wealthy lady and become a Lord. They knew who their father had been, but neither were bitter at how low they had fallen from their rightful place in life. Mira was content to let Morgaine have her way with Camelot, until she finally deemed it time to pay a visit to her former home. 

She, Morganna, and her two sons traveled towards Camelot. When they reached the once glistening city, both she and Morganna commented at the darkness that seemed to hover over the city. They reached the city gates, and were greeted by two drunken guards. 

"You're not welcome here. Travel on," one said.

Mira was tired, and not in the mood to convince the guards to let them pass. In a flash of steel she had them both unconscious on the ground. Her sons were astonished, but Morganna wasn't. She had seen Mira practicing all these years. They traveled through the gates, and Mira and Morganna looked around in disgust at the squalor of the city. 

"What has happened to Camelot?" Mira asked.

"My mother," Morganna whispered.

A beggar approached them, hopping on one leg, a haggard look on his face, "Please. Can you spare anything?"

He looked familiar to Mira and when she noticed his one leg, she nearly fell over. "Dustin?" she asked him, nearly collapsing in tears.

He looked at her closely, and then fell to his knee, "My lady. Your highness." He looked at the sword she had sheathed on her hip, and studied the falcon. "It is you," he breathed.

Mira turned to Johnathan and Boadin, "Give this man some bread and cheese and help him onto one of the horses. He will travel with us from now on."

"Oh thank you, Highness. Thank you," he sputtered.

A crowd had gathered at her generosity to the old beggar, and they fell to their knees. "It's Queen Resmiranda!" one woman shouted. "She's back to save us from our miserable state!"

They pushed their way through the crowd and entered the castle. A servant greeted them, and told them that Queen Morgaine would see them in her chambers. 

"I go alone," she whispered to the others. "Gather all you can who will fight. We're taking Camelot back. Johnathan, you will be no lord. You will be king, as your birthright states. You will be king," she hissed. 

She entered Morgaine's chambers, and bowed low to the floor. "Your Majesty," she greeted. 

"I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have finally brought your sons to Camelot, Resmiranda," Morgaine greeted her. "I was afraid you should never come after that ugly war business." 

"Yes, well, I have put that behind us," Mira replied through gritted teeth.

"We shall hold a small banquet tonight in you and your sons honor," Morgaine stated, smiling her chilling smile. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Mira replied. 

"Tell me, it must really put one in one's place having to be queen and then look up to another queen in one lifetime. What a pity." 

That was the end of their conversation. Morgaine expected no reply, and Mira left shortly after.

The banquet was quite nice, after all. Mira got to sit next to Boadin, who talked of taking religious vows in the church here at Camelot which Mira had always admired. "After your brother is on the throne," she whispered.

"Yes, of course, Mother," he replied. 

Mira noticed Johnathan taking a particular interest in Morgause, Morgan's daughter, and began to worry should an attachment form there. The banquet ended with fireworks between Morgan and her sister. Mira retired to her room soon after to comfort Morganna, who cried herself to sleep without saying a word to Mira. Mira wondered what it was about Morgan that always made Morganna so upset. 

They left about a week later with their original party, plus Dustin. Those who wished to join them were to start leaving one by one the next week, so as not to arise suspicion from Morgaine. 

They never returned all the way to Orkney, but to the scene of the battle between Arthur and Mordred near Luxemburg. That is where they waited for the refugees from Camelot. One by one, they came. Among the first, and the most surprising of all was Morgause. She wasn't sure of the girl's loyalty, but she was the most powerful ally they could possibly have. She pulled the girl aside, and asked her, "Morgause, I have heard tell that you are a sorceress. If this is true, I need to know now. We will have great need of your talent."

Morgause smiled softly, "Oh is that all." She breathed easier, "Yes, I am, and I'm willing to do anything to help."

Mira smiled back, but she couldn't quite match the grin, "Morgause, you may have to kill your own mother and grandmother. Can you do that?" she asked the question, knowing it would take the girl a while to answer.

But it only took her a second, "You think I haven't tried? I've tried poisoning. I've tried assassins. In the end, innocent people are always blamed for my attempts, so I stopped trying. I couldn't use sorcery because that was a family trait and my mother would know it was either of her daughters, or me."

At this Mira stopped breathing, "_Either _of her two daughters? Morganna is a sorceress?"

"We all are. Merlin enchanted my mother at birth, hoping she would help him, but she turned on him," Morgause told her.

"That she did," a man's voice said.

Morgause and Mira looked around but no one was there.

"Who is it? Show yourself!" Mira ordered. 

Morgause simply waved her hand, and a tall, thin, grey man stood before them. 

Mira recognized him from portraits she had seen at the castle. "Merlin?" she whispered.

"Aye, it's me. But I'm not really here. It's just a holograph of me. I must be quick. My minutes before you are numbered. You must convince Morganna to fight using her magic or you will lose. Morgan has tried to convince Morganna to use her magic since she was a child, after Morganna accidentally killed a man using her sorcery. Since then Morganna has refused to use her magic. She MUST use it or you will lose. That is all I can say." And before they could question him, he was gone.

In the end it was Johnathan who convinced Morganna to use her magic. How, Mira never knew. The army was ready to meet Morgaine and Morgan head on, and as word reached the "Queen of Camelot" of the approaching army, she rode out at the head of her small army. 

Morgause fought her mother using sorcery, and Morganna fought her mother using the magic she had fought so hard never to use again. Mira watched from her black warhorse. There was a flash of light as Morganna threw a sort of black fireball at her mother. Morgaine's face lit up in terror as it hit her. She lay senseless for a moment, and then, regaining her strength she tried to wave her hand at Morganna. Nothing happened. Somehow, Morganna had stolen Morgaine's magic, at least for the time being. Mira dismounted, and ran towards Morgaine. Morgaine pulled out her sword just as Mira swung at her. Mira swung again, but Morgaine blocked. Jab, block, swing, block, block, swing, swing, block, jab, and then Morgaine had no sword in her hands. Mira placed her blade at Morgaine's throat, and held her red curls tight with the other hand. 

"Any last words, _Highness?" _Mira mocked.

"Please, Resmiranda…. Please have pity…" Morgaine pleaded.

"No pity was shown to my husband, or was there?" Mira asked, and gave a minute for her question to process as she sliced Morgaine's head from her lovely white throat. She tossed the ugly thing to the ground, and turned to survey the battle scene. There were surprisingly few casualties. Probably because no one really wanted Morgaine on the throne except Morgaine, and Morgan. Lott had died years ago, and they didn't even have a king to fight for anymore. Morgan lay dead, her charred remains lying near her mother's severed head. A burial would have been too honorable for those two, but the rest of the bodies were buried and an alter was built to commemorate those who had died in the two battles that had taken place here. Stone slabs were placed upright, and stones placed on top of them. In the end it made a stone circle, which they called Glastenbury.

Johnathan and Morgause became King and Queen of Camelot. Mira died several years later, and was buried in the crypt with Mordred. The ceremony was presided over by Priest Boadin. "_The Greatest King and Queen Camelot ever knew" _was carved into their stone coffin. Records were kept by Arthur's scribe of his reign, but their was no scribe hired after Arthur was banished from the castle. Arthur is the last king known to us today who lived in Camelot. The beginning of Arthur's reign was great indeed, and so the textbooks took the quote in the crypt to mean Arthur and Guenivere. The true story was never known until now: Now that I have awakened once again from my long sleep. I prophesied the war between Arthur and Mordred, and saw it all long before it ever happened. I never expected the way it would play out, however. Sometimes the wheel of life can surprise even me. 

~Merlin


End file.
